The Freedom Fighter
by icantspeaksorry
Summary: I don't fit in at WICKED, i'm only here because i have to. Things are tough, watching what the boys are going through is terrible. I need to stop this.
1. WICKED IS GOOD

-Notes-

This takes place after the first book, and i guess ends just after the first starts.

WICKED Memorandum, Date 2232.1.27, Time 22:45

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancelor

SUB: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS, Group A

By any reckoning, I think we'd all agree that the Trials were a success. Twenty survivors, all well qualified for our planned endeavor. The responses to the Variables were satisfactory and encouraging. The boy's murder and the "rescue" proved to be a valuable finale. We needed to shock their systems, see their responses. Honestly, I'm amazed that in the end, despite everything, we were able to collect such a large population of kids that just never gave up.

Oddly enough, seeing them this way, thinking all is well, has been the hardest thing for me to observe. But there's no time for regret. For the good of our people, we will move forward.

I know I have my own feelings as to who should be chosen as the leader, but I'll refrain from saying at this time so as not to influence any decisions. But to me, it's an obvious choice.

We are all well aware of what's at stake. I, for one, am encouraged. Remember what the girl wrote on her arm before losing her memory? The one thing she chose to clasp on to? WICKED is good.

The subjects will eventually recall and understand the purpose of the hard things we have done and plan to do to them. The mission of WICKED is to serve and preserve humanity, no matter the cost. We are, indeed, "good."

Please respond with your own reactions. The subjects will be allowed one full night's sleep before Stage 2 implementation. At this time, let's allow ourselves to feel hopeful.

Group B's trial results were also most extraordinary. I need time to process the data, but we can touch on it in the morning.

Until tomorrow, then.

RE: WICKED Memorandum, Date 2232.1.28, Time 01:23

TO: Ava Paige, Chancellor

FROM: Rosealine Derriks, Overview Director

SUB: THOUGHTS ON MAZE TRIALS, Group A

Dear Ms. Paige,

I write to you in response to the recent email you sent out. I am having issues with feeling like the next phase of the plan is necessary. I understand that WICKED is good, we are doing everything for the greater good. We are here to save humanity. But I feel like to save humanity, we must first show some humanity ourselves. Perhaps we should be censoring what we are displaying to these traumatised _'Subjects'_. We are putting these kids through things that no person should go through, let alone a mere child.

And as a response to your comment on who should be chosen for leader, I believe it is necessary to appoint a _'__subject'_ who has had past experience leading, and has shown great responsibility in proving worthy for such a role…..

Regards, Rosealine Derriks, Overview Director.

That was my first mistake. They came round to my office not ten minutes after that email was sent. She sent security round to my office, threated both me an my family, death was mentioned. But without a doubt the worst thing that was threatened was purpously infecting my child. I've known for a long while that he is probably infected, he lives in a city alone, abandoned. Full of infected people that spew their infection onto others. But I had no choice. But now they've demoted me, I'm no longer Overview Director, but nothing less than another member of the overview team. We work as a CCTV camera as a sense. We took care of the 'Beatle Blades' as they were called during Phase 1. But we also work in monitoring and recording the output of the various bugs and implants that are in the _'subject's'_ brains.

I disagree with how WICKED are proceeding with the tests. They are putting the children through such devastating and impossible situations and scenarios that it's quite possible none of them will make it through Phase 2, Let alone Phase 3. I know WICKED is good, they work as a team to provide vital information to our scientists as to how the immune's brains work, and hopefully with this information be able to curate a cure to save those who are immune. But surely how they are going about this is a bit.. extreme

There was a knock on the door, a familiar three knock pattern that lent me to know exactly who it was.

"Come on in, Jake" I called, Jake is a good friend of mine. The only friend of mine. I'm not exactly the sort that makes friends, I often find that making friends with work crazed lab rats that do nothing but talk about terrible experiments kind of hard to make friends with. Jake is probably the only other person here at WICKED that doesn't find enjoyment in submitting children through terrible tests, but I don't think that that's what he's here for.

Jake shuffled into my tiny office, it wasn't much more than a toilet cubicle, my back to the door with a large touch screen computer infront of me. The chair was rock solid and with no privacy due to glass walls it is very awkward to shuffle or get comfortable. As Jake came in he paused as he looked at what was on my screen. "Not again," he groaned, "I thought we talked about this". On my screen was the live feed of the children in their new found 'Safe haven'. Thomas was just getting out of bed and going outside. I quickly turned off my display, not only because Thomas reminded me that I wasn't supposed to be doing that, but also because I wasn't prepared to watch was was going to happen next. Jake looked down at me in distaste, I saw something else in his eyes but the though obviously left his mind rather quickly.

"What's wrong with you Rose, you spend your entire time looking at these people, you know what'll happen if you get caught?" Jake said this whilst staring into my soul, rather intimidated I replied back; "I know, I Know. I'm sorry."

There was an awkward pause, I tried to maintain eye contact, but something about him just wasn't right. He pulled something out of his pocket, and slipped it onto my cluttered desk.

"I've been told to give this to you," Said Jake. He then left the room with little more than a nod of goodbye.

"He's been acting weird," I whispered to myself, cautious that Jake could hear me.

The device he gave me was a memory chip, often used to send messages between office members. But it is mainly used for official matters, such as promotions. With my recent _issue_ with the Chancellor, I was rather worried as to what was on it:

I scanned it over my computer and it whirred to life processing the message on the device. After a couple of seconds and a couple of warning beeps, I was greeted with a life-size version of Ms. Paige's face on my monitor. A recorded message, I presumed, as I hit the button to start the message. With the button press the Chancellor's face sprung to life and read out a pre-recorded message:

_Dear Ms. Derriks,_

_I have unfortunately been informed of your demotion due to your rather hateful email that you sent me. I have chosen to revoke this decision due to the fact that the next stage of the Trials is about to commence, and your expertise is needed in the recording of the data. And henceforth I am willing to work you a deal. As of the end of the first trials we have found that we are distinctly lacking in subjects and have a requirement in the next phase of the trials of another boy subject, preferably not immune, and we believe that you may have the answer._

I recoiled back in shock, time slowed as I realised what this was indicating, it was my job, or my child. I was on the verge of tears but managed to refrain myself as it was quite possible that there were other employees in the room. Before I had time to think about it any more, the message resumed, and the Chancellor's sharp voice pierced my ears once again.

_As a devoted employee of WICKED, I already know what your decision would be, and hence I've sent a team to go and retrieve your son. You know very well that your son shall be used in the upper most important tasked for WICKED, and as you know. WICKED is good._

This can't be happening. My son, the only reason that I worked here. Now he's gone. Even if I quit, they're still going to take him and.. _Use_ him. I got so frustrated that I realised I had completely crushed the memory device that I was still holding, and the sound of the breaking glass had rounded up an audience. Three or four employees stood in a semi-circle behind my office. I stumbled up behind to to get to the door, I couldn't face this in public. Not now, Not my son. I swung open my door and barged my way through the crowd that was slowly gathering. The first tear was down my cheek before I even made it through the door. I heard a voice call after me as a started through the door, cruel, wicked words. They burn a hole in my heart, sear through my ears..

_"__WICKED is good"_

_-Notes-_

_This is more of an introduction to the story, Mainly just to see if you guys would like something like this?_

_Alright, whaddya think? Constructive Criticism would be very nice guys/girls! It's my first attempt at something like this so please don't go too hard on me :P._


	2. The Raven Calling

_Notes:_

_(Best read wilst listening to relaxing/sad music. Just saying)_

_## = Flashback, just warning ya._

Chapter Two – The Raven Calling

The cool water washed over my hands, flowing through the gaps and cooling the warm crevaces. I felt the water rushing inbetween my fingers, bringing with it dirt, grime. I wish I could do that, stick my head beneith some water and have all my problems wash away, left with nothing but a clean mind and with nothing better to do than work. But I cant. I'm stuck here, pretending to love working for a .. corperation.

I looked back up to myself in the mirror, which like everything else at WICKED is shining new. I'm not beautiful, I'm ordinary. I take very little care of myself and you can tell, my hair runs down just past my shoulders and is more like straw than anything else. I have a slightly angular face, nothing anywhere near as attractive as some of the other ladies of the office.

But that wasn't what was on my mind, I only cared about what was going to happen to my little boy. Little he wasn't, though, at 16 he was fully capable of taking care of himself, but I've had a hard time thinking of him in any other way than as the cute child that lay in my arms. A sweet, innocent smile beamed up at me as he lay on my lap. The warmth from his little body far brighter and more powerfull than that of the flair. But I may never get to do that again. He's going to have to grow up, and fast if he's to make it through what WICKED will do to him.

Then something struck me, I don't know why it occurred to me, but it did. If my boy was to be sent to WICKED, surely I'm going to have to watch over him. Not in the way I wanted to, but in the way that I've now been promoted back to head of my department, the department of overviewing the Trials…

**_Jake_**

_I don't know what to do,_

_I can't do anything but think of you._

_A perfect smile to a perfect face,_

_The pinnical of the human race._

_I think of a way to say,_

_I think of you every minute, every day._

_I think I love you, you're perfect in every way,_

_I think I love you, but I don't want us to decay._

I quickly deleted the email before I'd even thought of sending it. There was no way. The only love she felt was for her son, and was still grieving not only the death of her husband, but even more that of the subjects in the maze..

'_Subjects' _

I've been using that word more and more now. When I first started at WICKED I wasn't so sure, I couldn't tell why killing and torturing innocent children would help to find the cure to the Flair. But as I've spent more and more time in the technical department I've seen and made some of the technology that is processing the killzone patterns. I can now see what WICKED is doing, and I think I know now that WICKED is good.

**_ROSE_**

I don't know what to do. WICKED is taking my child, and now I have to watch them go through whatever terrible task he is put upto. I need to speak to Jake.

I quickly washed the tears of my face with some cold water from the tap, the cold almost made me shiver as I felt the drops drip down my neck. I looked at my watch, I'd been in the toilets for over an hour. I knew I couldn't go back to my office, not with the way that I left. So I walked myself down to Jake, he worked on the 7th floor, down in IT, or whatever it's called. I wasn't exactly sure of what I was going to say to Jake, I wondered if I should tell him about what was happening, about my boy. But I decided against it.

I knocked on Jake's door and walked in, I knew he wouldn't mind. Jake turned round on his chair and looked at me, that same odd look was in his eyes. I couldn't tell what.

"Hows it goin?" Asked Jake, as non-chalaunt as ever. He definitely didn't know about the whole message thing, he's usually really sympathetic to me.

"What's going on? You don't look yourself.." Jake's tone was wavering slightly, concern creeping into his voice. He could obviously tell that I had spent the last however long crying.

"I don't know," I said, unsure where to start. "You know the drive you gave to me?"

Jake mumbled a reply, but I could see that he was worried. I'm not usually that emotionally unstable.

I continued; "I sent an email back to the Chancellor, you know, the one about the end of the tests"

"_Trials_", Jake interrupted.

"Trials," I sneered, unsure why he was being so.. WICKED like. "Well, I said that they shouldn't be quite so.. torturous in their next _Trials_. And, now they're blackmailing me into giving up my son to the _Trials_"

Jake was taken aback, he hadn't been expecting this, but neither had I. He fumbled on his desk and dropped eye contact. He picked up a small metal ball or something and started rolling it between his fingers.

It was some sort of fluid metal, it was sliver and reflective, but it seemed to roll and flow between his fingers, finding its way into the cavities of his hand. As he did this we sat there in a discomforting silence, Unsure of what to say next I decided not to open my mouth, I wanted Jake's opinion on this.

"I don't know where to start," started Jake, "I don't see why you spend your time getting attached to the Subjects…"

Then his words started to blur, I couldn't make head from tale of what was being said. All I knew was that Jake, my only friend here, he was lecturing me on _"WICKED is good"_. I couldn't deal with that, I turned around, swung open the door and stormed out. I don't know where to, just somewhere that wasn't near WICKED.

**_Jake_**

Rose, she stormed out the room. That's not what hurt me the most, what hurt me more was the fact that I'd just.. I couldn't believe myself.

What had I become?

##

I thought back to the old days, before the tests. Before, when things weren't.. real. When things were just a plan and nothing more. No harm, the worry of the cure was far from us, only concentrated on finding the patters in the killzone. At least for some. I'd been concentrating my time in getting to know Rose.

We'd been best friends, we'd spend our lunch breaks talking about past times, times before the flair. She'd spend hours and hours talking about her husband, crying into my shoulder for her boy, the one that she left behind. I didn't mind though.

Anything to be close to her.


End file.
